


An Honest Mistake

by Layneee



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Apologies, M/M, Meet-Cute, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 18:19:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6917959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Layneee/pseuds/Layneee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So Dean tends to get a little stupid when he drink tequila.</p><p>
Where Dean tries to do a favor for a friend and kinda messes up. Big time. At least the other guy doesn't seem to upset by it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Honest Mistake

The evening started out harmless enough. It was a Friday night, and like every Friday night before (and probably every Friday night to come), and Dean was spending the evening warming a seat at The Roadhouse. The way he saw it, there was no better way to relax after a week at the garage than with a few beers and some good conversation. The latter, unfortunately, didn't seem to be happening anytime soon. 

Jo, The Roadhouse's resident bartender and the daughter of the owner, was for all intents and purposes, Dean's best friend. They'd know each other for years, since Dean was still riding his bike instead of his Impala, and they've never hidden anything from each other. Dean's stating to regret that, now. 

"He dumped me! I was tied to his headboard, all ready for round two and he dumped me!" Jo said through gritted teeth as she continued to wipe down the glass in her hand. Dean was worried than any second now the thing was going to break for how hard the blonde was clutching it. "He said, " _well this has been fun, but Rebecca should be here soon."_ And then he just tossed me my pants. I was still tied up in his bed, Dean! In his bed!" 

Dean cringed and jumped in his seat when Jo slammed down two tumblers. Without giving him a chance to protest she took away his nearly full beer and filled the to glasses with tequila. "Jo?" 

Jo looked around the nearly empty bar and then threw back both shots. "Get on my level, Dean." 

She filled both glasses and pushed them towards her friend. "To dickhead ex-boyfriends not knowing what they're missing." 

"You're damn right," Jo said with a slight smile as she watched Dean swallow both shots, one after the other. 

 

* * *

It should be written, somewhere, That Dean _did not_  drink tequila. Practically ever. So when he suddenly found himself three-sheets to the wind with an empty bottle beside him, he should have known he was in for trouble. It was nearly two in the morning, and Dean was still at The Roadhouse. Jo had comisated with him for hours about her shitty ex, and with each shot Dean felt more and more like it was his place to do something about it. Nobody treated his best friend like that and got away with it. Nobody. 

Jo had already stumbled into the back room, presumedly to sleep off their bender on the foldout couch, leaving Dean to plan his revenge on his own. The guy, whatever his name was (Dean forgot), deserved a swift kick to the balls. Dean huffed out a drunken laugh as he pictured walking up to the guys door and just kicking him right in the stones. And when the guy was down for the count, Dean could ask, "How you gonna get it up for Rebecca now?" 

Actually, that idea sounded awesome. 

Dean staggered to his feet, knocking his chair over in the process. "Oops," he mumbled, following by a stellar belch that Jo would have high-dived him for. Deam tiptoed back to where his friend slept and, with more dexterity than he figured he'd have, slipped her phone out of her pocket. "Don't worry. I got your back, sister."

With the pilfered phone in hand, Dean snuck back to the bar and typed in Jo's passcode. Once faced with his friends contact list, Dean stumbled. 

What was the dickhole's name again? Something with a 'C' Dean remembered. He scrolled though her contacts. "Cole? Caleb?" Dean mumbled. "Keith? _Ha_ , that doesn't start with a 'C,' dumbass." 

The only name even came close was Castiel, which seems like a name that Dean would remember, but oh well. Thankfully for Dean, Jo's one of those anal-retentives that saves more than just people's phone numbers and there, below his number, but above an email address, is the guys real address. And, to add a cherry to Dean's revenge pie, it's only a few blocks away. 

Dean stumbled out of the bar, and in the direction of douchbag's apartment. He got there quickly, fueled by rage and Jose, and had to check Jo's phone to make sure he got the right unit. Dean found 2B easily and banged on the door as soon as it was in sight. 

He swayed in place while he waited for the door to open, and hiccuped. Then straightened because he was _not_  going to let himself be too drunk to enact his revenge. A minute later the door opened and Dean found himself face to face with messy hair and blue eyes. "Can I help you?" The guy asked, and Dean wondered if his voice was always to deep, or if maybe he was just sleepy. 

Then he remembered his plan and glared. The guy looked confused for a moment before Dean put both of his hands on the guys shoulders and brough his knee right into his family jewels. 

The guy dropped like a rock and groaned. Dean knelt beside him and whispered, all menacing like, "how you gonna get it up for Rebecca now?"

Blue eyes jumped to meet his. They were watering and set below frowning brows. "Who's Rebecca?" 

Dean suddenly felt a thousand times more sober and unsure. "The girl you dumped my friend Jo for. Obviously." 

The guy groaned and tried to stand, one hand on the door jamb and the other cupping his balls. "Jo? Jo Harvelle? She's my lab partner." 

"Oh shit," Dean cursed. When the guy's knees buckled, Dean caught him, though just barely (he was still pretty drunk). "I am so, _so_ sorry, man. Shit. I thought you were her ex!" 

"Her ex's name is Roscoe, you ass." Dean cringed and moved to help the guy back into his apartment. Dean got him as far as the couch before the guy shook him off and collapsed. "I'm fine, now. Thank you."

Dean recognized the dismissal when he heard it, and practically ran out of the apartment, down the stairs, and back to The Roadhouse. He made it all the way into the back room and flopped down on the floor before he thought about what he'd just done.

"Never drinkin' tequila again," Dean swore seconds before passing out.

* * *

 

Dean was woken up when a very persistent foot dug itself into his rib cage. "What the hell?" 

"I could ask you the same thing," Jo huffed from above him, looking as un-hungover as Dean's ever seen her. It's just not fair. "Why is it that I'm wakin' up to texts from my friends claiming you assaulted them?"

Dean groaned and tried to roll under the couch, but being that the cough sat _literally_ on the ground, he was unsuccessful. "I was tryin' to protect your honor, or some junk," he explained into the couch. 

"Thanks for that." Dean didn't think she sounded very thankful. "Now get your ass up and go apologize." 

"Do I have to?" Dean asked as he rolled over to look up at his friend. "'S embarrassing."

Jo rolled her eyes and tossed him one of those individual packs of aspirin and a bottled water. The mess he was able to catch, but the bottle not so much. It knocked him right in the stomach and Dean gaged. "Get up, now, Winchester." 

"Okay, okay. Jeez." Dean rolled to his feet carefully and swallowed the pills with the entire bottle of water. Jo then gave him a pointed look and a literal kick to the ass to get him moving. 

The walk to the guy's, Castiel's, apartment is a lot longer than Dean remembered from the night before, but not long enough for Dean to forget his humiliation. When he found himself in front of 2B, again, he knocked, only this time timidly. He half hoped the guy would ignore him, but no such luck. The door opened and, wow. 

Dean was not normally struck dumb by a pretty face, but he found himself unable to form words, let along an apology worthy of his beautiful frickin' face. 

"Have you come to assault me again?" Castiel asked, and nope. That was definitely just his voice. 

"No! Man, I'm sorry about that," Deam said as he rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly. "I got drunk, and Jo was telling me about her ex..."

" _Roscoe_ ," Castiel supplied very pointedly. 

"Yeah, Roscoe, and I just though that she didn't deserve that, and figured I could dole out a little justice. And yeah, sorry you got stuck in the middle of that." Dean dropped his gaze to the floor, and found himself staring at Castiel's "Bee Happy" doormat. "Is there any way I can make it up to you?"

Silence followed his words. Dean was worried that Castiel had somehow closed the door on him without Dean noticing. Then a pair of hands were on his shoulders and Dean looked up just in time to see a smirk on that beautiful face. 

Then pain.

Dean crumpled and swore in ever language he knew. It's been a while since he was kneed in the jewels, and it still hurt just as much as he remembered. Once the stars clear his vision he saw Castiel, crouched in front of him. He was smiling. 

"Would you like to get breakfast?" He asked politely. 

"Yeah, sounds awesome," Dean replied. 

Land the rest, they say, was history. 


End file.
